Couple of Showponies
by PossumFace
Summary: Trixie's the laughing-stock of Equestria after the Ursa stunt. When an certain fiery-maned pony from the Wonderbolts offers a helping hoof, will she be able to break through the magician's tough shell of pride? Or will Trixie never regain a positive reputation? (Contains heavy Trixfire shipping in later chapters.)
1. Chapter One

The smell of sweat accompanied by jostling bodies and accomplished yells filled the Wonderbolts locker room, familiar to the fiery-maned mare who stood in the center of it all, a wide grin on her face. Seeing her teammates so excited after a successful practice session was one of her favorite parts about being the captain of the Wonderbolts. She knew the feeling of accomplishment that came with pulling off a particularly tough trick or sticking a landing after a daring dive, and she loved when her teammates- her family- felt the same joy... Even the more boastful ones.

"...and Fleetfoot _totally_ would have crashed into the bleachers if I hadn't helped steer her toward the field," Tyco, of course- who else-, pointed out with a smirk. The pale-coated stallion flicked his red and white tail at Fleetfoot's muzzle. "Isn't that right, Fatfoot?"

Fleetfoot snorted, nipping Tyco's tail and provoking a rather high-pitched yelp from the large pony. "Fatfoot? Really?" She rolled her eyes, looking toward Soarin' with a sly grin. "If I recall correctly, it was _him_," she tilted her head toward the co-captain, "who saved _your _sorry flank from being wiped from the face of Equestria. Everypony knows you're the shakiest lander on the team."

Tyco opened his mouth to reply, but Spitfire cleared her throat loudly, the team slowly quieting down, their eyes turned toward their captain with silent respect. "Good practice, you guys... No, not good. Amazing! Everypony seems to be ready for the big show next week." Spitfire turned toward Tyco and Fleetfoot, who were not-so-discreetly prodding each other with their hooves. "_Every_pony," she repeated, grabbing the two ponies' attention. "Remember, we go on at exactly noon tomorrow at Canterlot's tracks, so try to arrive at least by 11:58. In your flight suits this time!" she added, glaring at Lightning Streak, who blushed a light pink and lowered his head. "You'll all do wonderfully if you perform like you did today. Now go! Enjoy your night. Don't do anything you'll regret in the morning." With a nod from their captain, the team rushed toward the showers, pushing and shoving and yelling in protest.

Spitfire shook her head with a small smile and trotted toward the steel door leading outside, pushing it open with her shoulder and blinking as the sun attacked her eyes. She never really enjoyed sharing the communal showers with her friends after they got all riled up, and besides, her summer home in Canterlot was relatively close to the training center (and involved much less towel-whipping). Taking a deep breath of flower-scented air, the yellow pegasus spread her wings, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze between her feathers for a moment before swiftly diving into the air and soaring gracefully upwards.

Even after a long day of brutal training, Spitfire could not dream of a better feeling than flying. It had always freed her mind in a way nothing else could. She imagined that unicorns might feel the same way when casting a spell they knew very well, a spell that had aged and grew and progressed along with them, but then again, the pegasus knew little of magic. Never would she dream of trading her wings for a horn, or for the Earth ponies' strength. Magic and power were nice, but she was certain they could _never _compare to flying.

She dipped down through the clouds, squinting in an attempt to spot her home from so far above. "Ugh... stupid fog! Had to schedule fog today..." she mumbled to herself and she began to slow down and descend from the skies. "Hmm..." She had owned the small estate in Canterlot for years but had only used it a hoof-ful of times, and besides, all the houses looked the same here, just another reason she disliked putting on shows in the prestigious town. Grumbling to herself, she touched down onto the cobblestone path, hoping for better luck on hoof. She silently prayed to Celestia and Luna that no one would recognize her; the last thing she needed was a pack of fame-crazed Canterlot ponies following her around. Still, she needed help finding her street, so she scanned the quiet streets for the least stuck-up looking pony around. Spotting a blue unicorn mare with a tattered looking purple cape decorated in stars, Spitfire hesitantly trotted over. "Um, excuse me, do you-?"

The mare turned abruptly before Spitfire could finish, an angry expression on her face. "Come back to humiliate Trixie even further?!" she spat before her features relaxed with recognition. "S-Spitfire? Is that you?"

"Uh, yes." Spitfire ran a hoof over her wind-blown mane. _Great, a fan I see_, she thought to herself with an internal frown. "Can you tell me how to get to Stableton Drive?"

The unicorn shook her head, her white-striped mane bouncing a bit. "No, but... Have you forgotten Trixie? It has been a while." She frowned, narrowing her eyes a bit. "Still, Trixie assumed her friendship was worth remembering."

The Wonderbolt paused, scanning her brain for a hint. "Trixie... Trixie..." She looked back at the mare, stumped. "I'm so sorry, but-"

Trixie huffed, turning her back to the other mare. "Fine! Leave it to a pegasus to forget her best friend! All that fame got to your stupid hot-head. It is your loss for not knowing The Great and Powerful Trixie!"

Spitfire's eyes widened, her jaw falling slack. "Wait, _you're_ the Trixie from the Young Leaders' camp all those years ago?!"

Trixie snorted, flipping her mane over her shoulder. "Of course you'd only recognize me by my full title."

"Well, can you blame me? You demanded that we all call you that!" Spitfire chuckled, but upon noticing her old friend's annoyed expression, her laugh fell silent. "Uh... Anyway! You look so different now! I mean, you changed your manestyle, and the cape is... new." Unable to think of any other changes, the yellow mare grinned sheepishly, blinking at her companion.

"Yes, well." Trixie eyed Spitfire. "The years seem to have been kinder to Trixie. Your mane is a mess and-" she wrinkled her nose, "you _stink_." Spitfire blushed, regretting putting off her shower more than ever. "No matter," Trixie continued, trotting a bit down the lane. "Trixie assumes you must be on a tight schedule. She'll just get out of your hair. Tangled enough already."

"Hey, wait!" Jumping up, Spitfire stumbled after Trixie on hoof, catching up quickly. "Where have you been all these years? I haven't seen you since we were just out of high school. Was your magic act successful?" The unicorn halted. "Er, that is what you wanted to do, right?" Silence. "Trixie...? You okay? I didn't-"

"That is none of your concern, Spitfire!" Trixie hissed, whipping around and pressing her forehead to Spitfire's. "Of course Trixie is a talented magician. She always was! Don't pretend as though you care!" Spitfire blinked, trying her best not to look hurt. "Oh, um." Trixie coughed, looking away. "Trixie is... I'm sorry." She let out a long sigh, unbuckling her cape and throwing it over her shoulder. "Perhaps Trixie's business did not go as planned. But she's happy for you." The cyan unicorn turned her back on her old friend once again. "Trixie will let you go now. You must have much to do."

Spitfire kicked at the ground with a hoof for a bit, sending up a small cloud of dust. "I actually don't have anything planned until tomorrow at noon. Don't know many ponies in this town. Maybe you'd like to catch up at my place...?"

Trixie didn't turn around, but one of her ears swiveled back toward Spitfire. "Hm? Company with a Wonderbolt huh? Trixie is listening."

"Well, I mean... There's not a lot to do, but I've got a pool and some video games. Maybe I could order a pizza...?" Spitfire kicked up another small puff of dust with her hoof.

"Will you promise Trixie that you'll shower first?" Before the pegasus could respond, Trixie turned around with the smallest of smiles. "Trixie will come with you. But you'd better hold her attention!" Without another word, Trixie whirled around, her cape billowing behind her as she marched down the road.

"Wait, I thought you didn't know where Stableton Drive was," Spitfire remarked, puzzled.

"Perhaps you refreshed Trixie's mind," the unicorn responded, flicking her tail as she trotted along.

Spitfire rolled her eyes. "Just as I remembered you."

"You _didn't_ remember Trixie. But that's alright. It has been quite some time." She slowed her pace and walked alongside Spitfire, guiding her with a blue and white tail. "As a matter of fact, Trixie recalls that she said she would be traveling quite a lot, and she assumes you've done much of the same. Must have missed each other with all that moving about." A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Trixie will not lie to you, Spitfire, things have not been well. But," she glanced around warily, "Trixie would prefer that we got to your home before she elaborates."

Spitfire nodded, leaning down briefly to nuzzle her friend's mane, noting the way the unicorn tensed slightly. "It's alright. I understand. Paparazzi are relentless."

"Ha, yes! The paparazzi... Can't get rid of them." Before Spitfire could think of a response, Trixie's horn sparked, lighting the rapidly darkening street. "Aha! Stableton Drive." She scanned the line of identical houses. "Which one of these lovely places is yours?"

Spitfire shrugged. "The one that doesn't have ponies in it. I hope." The comment brought a smile to Trixie's face. "I think it's... 2026," Spitfire continued. "On the left... There!" Lifting upwards, she zoomed excitedly over to the lawn, slightly patchy and brown in a few spots. "Neighbors must hate me." The Wonderbolt's face fell. "Ugh! I forgot to get the keys from my locker at the Wonderbolt's stadium." She slapped her forehead with a hoof. "I'll have to fly all the way back."

"Not to worry, not to worry!" Trixie climbed the stairs to the front door, her horn lit once more. "Just a little... Uh-huh... Hm... Ah!" A loud click filled the quiet night and the door creaked open. Spitfire raised an eyebrow. "Heh. Trixie has had to learn many... undesirable spells. This economy," she grumbled, pushing the door open with her flank. "After you." She stepped to the side and bowed, looking up at her fiery friend.

"Age before beauty," Spitfire answered with a grin.

"So what are you waiting for?" Trixie retorted with a smirk.

Spitfire rolled her eyes and swooped inside, scuffing the wooden floor as she landed. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna make myself presentable."

"That's a relief." The unicorn settled onto the couch, tucking her hooves beneath her. "Take your time. Trixie will be judging you by your house."

The pegasus couldn't fight back a laugh as she trotted to the large bathroom, stripping out of her flight suit and tossing it into a stinky heap on the floor. "Ahhh..." She wallowed in the sudden coolness; despite being perfectly aerodynamic, the suits really held in heat. After a moment she started the hot water, watching as steam rolled slowly upward.

Hearing the water start, Trixie hopped off her place on the couch and began her self-given tour of the Wonderbolt's home. Ambling into the kitchen, the unicorn struggled to magically open the refrigrator door, grunting with effort. Admitting defeat, she threw the door open with a hoof, scanning the contents: half a pizza, a couple questionably fresh apples, a two-liter of soda, and a stick of butter. Trixie snorted, unsurprised. Shutting the door gingerly, she crept down the hall, past the bathroom, and into Spitfire's bedroom.

The walls of the bedroom were mostly bare, save for a tattered and faded band poster and a couple photos of what Trixie presumed were family members. A desk across the room held a few letters and an empty can of soda, eraser shavings everywhere. Seeing nothing of particular interest, Trixie flopped down on the large bed and snuggled into the sheets, which smelled a bit like roses and cinnamon. She assured herself she would just shut her eyes for a couple seconds, but the next thing she knew, a yellow hoof was shaking her awake. "Huh... wha...?"

"Guess I didn't do a good job of keeping you entertained, hm?" Spitfire grinned down at the groggy unicorn.

Trixie groaned, rolling over onto her back. "Sorry, Spitfire. This bed is delightful. Trixie... may have drooled a bit." A light blush crept across the unicorn's face.

Spitfire waved a hoof dismissively. "These sheets have seen me after practice without a shower. It's been worse."

"Delicious," Trixie commented, wrinkling her nose.

Spitfire let out a hearty laugh. "I've washed them since then, silly!" She collapsed back onto the bed, her wings spread out behind her, her still-damp mane sticking out in tufts. "You want to tell me about what's happened since high school now?"

Trixie's mood seemed to deflate. "Suppose I... Trixie supposes she should." She crawled toward her friend. "Let's see... Most of it is not important. Trixie's parents supported her dream at first, bought her a very nice wagon for her many travels. She was doing very well for a while. Just simple show magic, but I- but Trixie was very talented." She paused to rub a hoof against her chest proudly. "Of course, Trixie made a plan to hit all the towns in Equestria. She needed to be known everywhere. It seemed Ponyville would be the easiest to wow: such a quiet town, thought even a rainstorm would excite them. Perhaps Trixie was too confident.

"You see, Trixie bragged too much, and her admirers got too enthusiastic. They brought an Ursa into town, and Trixie couldn't vanquish it. That Twilight Sparkle, show-off that she is, got rid of it with milk! MILK." The unicorn sighed. "Since then, Trixie has been a joke." Her eyes clouded with tears. "No one takes my act seriously..." Trixie's voice began to shake. "They ruined my new wagon. They laughed me out of town. I've been working on a rock farm. A rock farm! It's not fair, Spitfire." She rolled over, looking tearfully at the Wonderbolt before burying her face in her already damp mane and releasing the waterworks. "I'm The Great and Powerful Trixie, not The Weak and Insignificant Trixie!"

Spitfire, unsure of how to react, simply patted Trixie's back with a hoof. "Of course you're not weak or insignificant. You're wonderful at what you do. Ponies will see that in time." Out of comforting words, the pegasus simple held her friend as her sobs turned into sniffles.

"Y-Yes. Of course." Trixie pulled away with a loud sniffle. "Of course I- Trixie is the best." The mare pulled away, fixing her mane. "Trixie is sorry, Spitfire. She should go now." She climbed out the bed, shaking herself off and briskly trotting out of the bedroom.

"Wait, Trixie!" Spitfire jumped up, following Trixie down the hall, landing in front of her and blocking her path. "Maybe I could help you..."

"Help Trixie?! Are you mad?" Trixie growled, her tail flicking back and forth. "Trixie doesn't need your help. She doesn't need anyone's help, especially not help from a useless, pathetic celebrity like you!"

"Trixie..." Spitfire reached out a hoof toward her friend, but Trixie violently smacked it away. "Ah! Trixie, that really hurt."

"Good. Now forget this night ever happened and leave Trixie alone. She doesn't need you or anyone else."

"Trixie..." the pegasus repeated, once more reaching out a hoof. "Please. I know it's hard to let go of your pride, but-"

"You shut your mouth, Spitfire! You just... shut it right now! You don't know what Trixie is going through! You have absolutely no idea how much Trixie's life stinks. Worse than you after the longest of practices. Trixie thought she could trust you, but all you do is belittle Trixie! No one is going to admire Trixie ever again because of that Twilight Sparkle. Don't try to make Trixie think otherwise."

Spitfire frowned, lowering her ears and glancing away. "I admire you..."

"Ha. You don't count. You're nice to everyone, even the slobbering, rabid Wonderbolts fans. Just a facade of yours. You're worse than Trixie! And how do you expect-" Spitfire suddenly lurched forward and embraced the unicorn, who froze, a growl in her throat. "Stop that!" Spitfire didn't move an inch, just snuggled deeply into her friend's mane. Trixie sighed, relaxing in Spitfire's arms. "...You just don't give up, do you?" Spitfire shook her head, holding tight. "Well..." There was a long, drawn-out pause. "Trixie will perhaps see you later." She pushed Spitfire away and continued her journey outside.

Spitfire skidded after her, pausing at the door. "I have a show tomorrow! At noon in Canterlot. You should come see us perform. If you want. Since... since you haven't been to a show before. You know. First time for everything." She smiled nervously.

"Trixie never said she hadn't seen you before. See you, Spitfire." Trixie descended from the porch, replacing the star-covered cape around her neck.

"Trixie, wait! What do you-" A large cloud of white smoke appeared from seemingly nowhere, burning Spitfire's eyes. "Ugh! What the-" There was cough, the sound of galloping hooves, and then empty silence. By the time Spitfire's eyes stopped sizzling, the only company she had were the stars and the waxing moon.


	2. Chapter Two

"Alright, everypony! Positions!" The loudspeaker broadcasting the announcer's opening speech let out a high-pitched screech which caused a collective cringe amongst the assembled Wonderbolts. "Okay, let's hope we're the only ones who heard that!" Spitfire rolled her shoulders and looked back at her team with a smile. "Remember your formations and you'll be golden."

"Just like you, boss," the soft-spoken Misty pointed out with a chuckle.

"Ha!" Spitfire faced forward once again, her muscles tensed for the take-off. "You could only be this golden in your wildest dreams, fillies and colts." A sharp whistle sounded, and without another word, the Wonderbolts moved as one, swiftly soaring upward toward the warmth of the summer sun.

Spitfire hadn't planned anything particularly awe-inspiring for today's show; the Canterlot ponies were amazed by even the smallest feats, and besides, the princesses weren't attending this show, and it really took the pressure off her team. Some ponies would say Spitfire should have planned more daring stunts for this reason, but her years as the captain of this agile team had taught her countless things, one of the most important being that sometimes less pressure meant much more carelessness. When the aerial experts were worried about performing well, they took less dangerous chances. The ease of pressure caused them to become reckless, something far more dangerous than not impressing a crowd of conceited ponies.

Things were going swimmingly when it happened: out of the corner of her eye, Spitfire caught Tyco's trademark red-and-white colors spiraling downward so quickly they were simply blurs. Changing directions so quickly her muscles screamed in pain, she dived toward her teammate, all the while knowing she would never reach him in time. None of the other performers were anywhere near close enough; the stallion would be splattered on the ground in a matter of seconds.

A flash of magenta jolted toward the descending Tyco, and Spitfire turned toward the source, baffled. To her great surprise, her blue-coated unicorn friend stood on the other side of the magic bolt, her face showing her great strain. Yet the magic did nothing, didn't even slow Tyco's fall. "No no _no_!" Spitfire closed her eyes, terrified and unwilling to see her friend's gruesome meeting with the ground below. She perked her ears for the tell-tale sign of a collision, but she heard nothing. Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes and peered down.

A white unicorn stallion held her friend in place with his magical aura, a relieved look upon his mustached face. "Ah... Quite right, then." The heroic pony set Tyco down gently, backing away to allow the rest of the team to move forward. Spitfire alone stood back.

"You... You saved his life. You actually saved his life." Spitfire blinked repeatedly, still not believing her eyes as she watched her tearful, overjoyed friends surrounding the glassy-eyed but grateful Tyco.

"Oh, well. I just did what anypony would have done, my dear. Just a simple spell, really. One of the first that young unicorns learn." As the large unicorn continued, Spitfire noticed Trixie backing away slowly, looking humiliated, trying desperately to blend in with the crowd to no avail. Finally she gave up, turning high-tail and dashing out of the stadium, knocking over a few of the patrons as she went. "...and don't even consider trying to finish the show, madam. We can always continue another time." Spitfire turned her attention back toward the unicorn stallion, a charming smile upon his face.

"Oh, er. Of course." Spitfire nodded, trying to clear her brain and deal with the issue at hoof. "I didn't catch your name..."

"Fancy Pants, dear, Fancy Pants, but that's hardly important. It's my pleasure to assist anypony in danger. The fact that this time it was a Wonderbolt is just a bonus."

Spitfire shot him a shaky smile. "We're forever grateful. Of course you can have free tickets this year... Heck, for life!"

Fancy Pants chuckled, shaking his head. "I am thankful for your gratitude, but I cannot accept that offer." He glanced down at his wrist, a watch ticking away there. "Ah, terribly sorry miss, but I have a previous engagement, I'm afraid I'll have to be going now, as long as things are under control here...?"

"Oh! Oh yeah, sure. We'll be okay. And thank you. If you ever need anything..." Spitfire trailed off, her mind clouded with several conflicts.

"I'll keep that in mind. Have a wonderful evening." With those final words, the white stallion turned and departed, the crowd parting to let him through, though their eyes stayed fixed on the scene still ongoing in the middle of the field.

Spitfire realized that the crowd would not clear unless urged to do so. With a sigh, she fixed her eyes on the flock of spectators and spoke as loudly as she could. "Uh, I think we'll have to cut this show short, folks. Hold onto your tickets and your next show will be free of charge, of course. It seems a crisis has been very narrowly avoided, but it _has_ been avoided, and there is nothing more to see here. I'm going to have to ask you to exit the stadium." Groans of disappointment met her speech, but the crowd slowly dispersed, eventually leaving the team alone on the field. The confusion of the situation began to lift away from Spitfire's mind, and she shook her head as if to finish clearing it.

"Spits? You alright?" Spitfire turned toward a visibly shaken Soarin', his frightened eyes filled with concern. "Tyco's okay, says he lost control and couldn't pull back up after he started plummeting. Me and Blaze are gonna take him to the hospital in case he's going through shock or something."

The captain let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her old friend. "Yeah, I'm cool, but I think there's something else I need to address. You guys sure you've got this under control?" Soarin' nodded curtly. "Right. You're in charge for the rest of the day, but make sure everypony is okay before you head home, please."

"You got it." Giving Spitfire a quick salute, he spun around and padded back toward the rest of the 'Bolts who were helping Tyco back to his hooves. Satisfied with the situation, the orange-maned pegasus stripped out of her flight suit and tossed it to the side, unconcerned about its fate. With some effort, she flattened her tangled mane and took flight, skimming over the wall of the stadium and dipping low, scanning the congested streets below for the familiar azure mare.

Though she made sure to check every nook and cranny the busy town had to offer, Spitfire's search had turned up nothing more than a few star-struck fans and a rather irritated shop owner (so she'd accidentally hugged the disgruntled shop-mare, so what! She looked like a carbon-copy of Trixie from behind!). Defeated, Spitfire headed home with a heavy heart as the sun set on the pale pink horizon. The trip to the ritzy house on Stableton Drive felt like an eternity; Spitfire could never rest when a problem lay, heavy and unsettled, on her shoulders. Considering how inferior and humiliated she knew Trixie had been feeling lately, Spitfire knew this blow had probably knocked the already unstable magician off her hooves. A chance to redeem herself destroyed by her weak magical abilities... Spitfire shuddered. She could feel her heart breaking for the unicorn mare, and because she knew she couldn't help without even knowing where her friend was.

Exhausted, the yellow pegasus felt a grateful flare inside when her home came into view... but it was quickly replaced by extreme bafflement; the bedroom light was on, burning bright against the now-black sky. She was certain she'd turned the light out before she left, not desiring a high electricity bill. She froze on the porch, uncertain what to do. If a crazed fan were to greet her inside, Celestia only knew how the night would end. Her energy too depleted for her to weigh her options anymore, Spitfire grabbed her key, now hidden beneath a potted plant, and unlocked the door, hesitantly stepping inside.

"Hello?" Spitfire glanced around the foyer, pulling the door shut behind her with her tail, the click echoing through the seemingly empty house. "Whoever you are," she continued, warily making her way down the wooden-floored hall toward her bedroom, "I don't appreciate you coming here uninvited." Approaching the doorway, Spitfire took a deep breath. "Last chance, come out now and the police don't have to be involved." After a few moments of silence, Spitfire sighed and entered the room. "Alright, I gave you plenty of chance-" The Wonderbolt's voice cut off as she spotted the intruder on her bed: a puffy eyed blue unicorn, surrounded by used tissues.

Trixie didn't say anything at first, simply staring back at Spitfire blankly. Finally, she lowered her head in shame and spoke quietly, shakily. "Trixie is s-sorry. Since her wagon was destroyed, sh-she hasn't had anywhere reliable to stay. Sh-She didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay, really, I-"

"Trixie is not looking for your sympathies, Spitfire. She simply needed a place where she would not be... laughed at." A magenta aura swept the dirtied tissues off the mattress and neatly into a bin. "Trixie is sorry for intruding. She will take her leave now and perhaps find a nice motel."

Unsure of what to say, Spitfire stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on the side with a deep, furrowed frown. Wording things with Trixie was incredibly difficult; she had to be caring but never overbearing. She couldn't offend Trixie, but she never wanted to seem cold to her either. "You know, I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately... Would you mind staying the night? Keeping me company, maybe catching a TV movie?"

A long pause. Spitfire was sure she'd said something wrong, and as she backed away to allow Trixie to pass by her, the unicorn nodded. "Only because you're so pathetic. Trixie would have thought you could have any stallion- or mare- in your bed with a wink of your eye. Suppose not everypony has the skills." She shrugged. "Anything for Trixie to wear? For one so fiery, you keep your house dangerously chilly."

Elated with her friend's response, Spitfire bounced back into the room. "Of course! Although I don't usually wear clothes, so it's mostly just over-sized shirts... Will that do?"

Trixie flashed a scoff. "Certainly not great and powerful, but acceptable, Trixie supposes. Just for tonight."

"Just for tonight," Spitfire agreed.

"Uh, Spitfire..." Trixie blinked, taking step closer to the pegasus... Then another. And another. She finally paused, inches away from Spitfire's face, purple eyes boring into amber, warm breath between them... "Brush your mane," the unicorn whispered before swooping gracefully out the bedroom and toward the kitchen, leaving Spitfire a deep shade of red and wide-eyed.

*****

Hours later, well into the morning hours, the two showponies were still wide awake, guffawing at a made-for-TV movie with a cheesy story and cardboard acting. Once somepony had told Spitfire that is was very easy for two ponies to bond over mutual hate, and she felt herself believing it more and more as the minutes flew by. Trixie had proven herself to be quite humorous, and Spitfire was enjoying their time together, but her hopeful heart still longed for Trixie to open up to her about the past, the day's events, anything really. Bringing it up would be a huge risk, but Spitfire had always been one for taking chances.

"'I'll wait forever, Cinder Star.' Ha!" Trixie snorted, covering her muzzle with a hoof. "It's like every line from this thing is stolen from a soap opera."

Spitfire nodded in agreement. "Soap operas... Yuck. Although sometimes I feel that life is just one big soap opera. Sometimes the acting is just as bad as one!"

Trixie tensed a bit. "Heh."

"I remember this one time at practice when I crashed face-first into an oak tree... I was so humiliated! I mean, it was so-"

"You know, you could just ask Trixie directly. You pegasi are always beating around the bush to get what you desire." She let out a sigh. "Today was just the icing on Trixie's soap opera cake." Spitfire muted the television, her eyes fixed on Trixie's. "Trixie was so sure she could save your friend. If that stallion hadn't jumped in... Trixie could not save him. Her magic isn't even powerful enough for that simple task. You heard that stallion... 'A simple spell, one of the first learned by young unicorns.' Trixie is outdone by foals."

A long, uncomfortable silence settled between the mares. "Trixie knows what you are trying to do, Spitfire, and she has already told you, she does not require your assistance. Don't think the thought is not appreciated, but... Trixie will take care of herself. She always has." With a cough, Trixie hopped off the couch, stretched, and cantered down the hall toward the bedroom. "Trixie has had enough of this garbage movie. Let's have a nap."

"Sure," Spitfire replied, the TV shutting off with a buzz of static. Suppressing a yawn, the athlete followed the path of her magician friend to the bedroom, flicking the light-switch off and jumping into the bed next to the already settled in unicorn. "Goodnight, Trixie." Spitfire squirmed a bit, finally falling still as she became comfortable.

Suddenly, Spitfire felt the warmth of a body against her back, her wings spreading open at the sensation. "_Goodnight_," Trixie whispered, pulling away after a drawn-out moment and adjusting herself on her own side of the bed. Spitfire drifted off uneasily, wondering why her friend had such random bursts of uncharacteristic friendliness.

The bed was warm and cozy, but when she awoke in the morning, Spitfire found her excessively comfortable bed empty, save for a pony-shaped indent to remind her she had not been dreaming.


End file.
